Shattered
by An Fhomhair
Summary: Miss Saigon fic. It's just different characters' POVs during the final scene, and their thoughts which relate to Kim's suicide, in 'Saigon. PLEASE REVEIW!
1. Kim

Disclaimer: I wish I owned Miss Saigon. Mais non. sigh

A/N: Well, this is the first Saigon fic I've attempted..I decided to take a break from CATS for a bit. If I continue it, each chapter will be from a different character's POV, all describing their view on the final scene. Please review, constructive criticism is greatly appreciated!

Shattered

My heart is beating like a drum; I can nearly hear it, feel it pounding in my ears as a million thoughts, pictures, worries, fears, emotions swim madly through my head. Sentimentality, sadness, pain, resignation-and yet amidst all of this, a strange sort of reluctant joy shines dimly in the back of my mind. I can't cry…for some reason the tears will not come…I take a last look at my son. My only joy. It's true; I would give it all for him, and that's why I am in this position. I kiss him; goodbye, my love, but I know we'll meet again, won't we?

Slipping behind the curtain-I don't want him to see- I know that as soon as I take that gun in my hands I am past the point of no return…

And I do.

I hesitate slightly; weigh the weapon that will shatter one life and bring renewal to another in my hands. I consider the fateful choice I am making one last time. This gun has killed before, and nothing good came of it….but…I know it will be different this time. What does it matter, anyhow? I am gone, I have no future, I am sunk to far into this. Only Tam. Tam has a future.

I hear voices and footsteps in the hall…they're coming. Thank God.

I lick my lips nervously, the first glimmer of a tear glinting in the corner of my eye, and my head is whirling again, like a tornado of thoughts and pictures and the events of my life flash in front of me like a movie-

BANG.

It's alright…they're coming.

A/N: Well, there you go. Please tell me what you think, and I really will continue this if people think I should. Thanx!

Veel liefs,

Eponine


	2. Ellen

BANG.

That gunshot made my head spin, as I realised with a jolt that I knew what was going on.

So the girl had shot herself…Admittedly, I had never really liked Kim from the point I'd met her. Admittedly, I'd wished that Chris had never met her. Admittedly, she made me jealous; her innocent brown eyes, her perfect face, her lilting voice. Alright, so I couldn't stand her. But I hadn't wished death upon her.

Had I?

As she lay dying- in my husband's arms- a mix of emotions watched over me…I pitied her, and yet, in the deepest, darkest corners of my heart, I was glad that she was out of the way. I knew it was a terrible thing to think, and it made my body prickle with guilt.

But, then again- wouldn't you?

She turns up claiming she's married to your husband. She has a child, and is impoverished, and makes you want to feel sorry for her. To top it all off, she's beautiful, and sweet, and charming, and painfully perfect.

Wouldn't you wish she didn't exist?

And I feel guilty because, for some reason, I feel like she can hear what I'm thinking and it makes me feel terrible. I try to block the nasty emotions out of my mind, thinking desperately that any other person would sympathize with her, and so should I. Kim, I know you can't hear me, but…I'm sorry…

I sigh: she's gone.


	3. Chris

**A/N: .:the Authoress rushes in, carrying a clipboard:. Yisss, I'm back! Feepp! Well, thanxies for reviewing, review answers are the end of the chapter. Sorry I forgot to do them last chapter!**

Who is the girl lying in my arms?

Holding this bleeding woman, her face a mask of suffering, it's hard to take in that this is the Kim- young, naïve Kim- who caught me under her spell three years ago, in that bitter hellhole called Saigon. Saigon. The place that trapped me in its spell as well as Kim did, then abruptly disillusioned me when I realised that war was not just people killing other people.

Oh, yes. War is a lot more than guns and the heat of battle- maybe it's hard for some people who've never seen inside the chaos to understand. Because on the inside of the glamourous shell that movies and the media project, there are families torn apart by it- a father or a brother goes off to fight and doesn't return, and that family is scarred forever. Or a soldier falls in love with a girl. Whoever knew that love could be so painful? Only someone who's gotten tangled in that seductive spider web, and then discovered what dreadful results are born from it.

And I'm brought back to Kim. "I have had my fill of pain" she told me, on that fateful night in a place where one would never have been expected to experience something as close to magic as I did. Is this not painful to her?

It's something I've never understood, and never tried to explore- how someone could take their own life. Why did she? How could she? The answers come flooding back to me, but still I don't understand…did she think this was rational? And then I'm hit with irrepressible guilt. The tiny voice in the back of my head, my conscience, calls out at me jeeringly. It's my fault. It's my fault, for being stupid enough to fall in love, and being stupid enough to think that I could be her saviour, and then being stupid enough to think that, three years later, I could solve this whole mess.

Of course, the other side of my brain adds, It's also thanks to the fact that she has a son. It's not completely your fault.

And for a moment, I'm tempted to blame him. If the child was not there, Kim would not be dying right now. But I'm hit instantly with another wave of guilt. That's not just her child, it's my son, too. Your son. My conscience reminds me, like a bell that is ringing, and won't ever let you forget. Your son. I have to block it out as I'm brought back into the present by Kim's voice.

That hasn't changed. Her voice is exactly as I remember it, sweet and melodic. I'm vaguely aware that I'm beginning to cry, and that there are other people standing around, but that's irrelevant now.

The gods have guided you to your son, she tells me. She's smiling and in that smile I can see everything the way it was when we met- which is heartbreaking and wonderful at the same time. I cradle her in my arms, almost afraid that if I let go of her then it's over.

It's over anyways, now. I block out everybody else, block out the sympathy that I know is going to come, and simply sit holding her. The gods….huh. I'd like to talk to them. Maybe then I'd understand why all this happened the way it did?

**REVIEW COMMENTS**

**East of the Sun- Thankies for the compliments! Also thanks for being the first reviewer! Throws a cookie**

**TailsEponineRox- Thanks to you, too. Hm, I sound like you? ponders Maybe you're my evil twin? Or it could be he other way around, lol.**

**WithoutYou19- Even though I hate you right now, because you're being evil to me at school and acting like a jerk, I'll say thanks anyways. However, no thanks to your review on 'Promenade'. It was rude and uncalled for, and you can email me to discuss why you thought it was bland and cliché- which, by the way, was not much in the way of constructive criticism.**

**A/N: I would also like to ask you guys something. Because I've never actually seen Miss Saigon, (I have the soundtrack and know the plotline and everything) I wanted to know if you knew whether or not John and the Engineer and Tam were in the final scene? I guess if they're not, that kinda ends this ficcie…**

**Le gra go deo,**

**'Ponine**


	4. John

**Shattered: Chapter Four**

**A/N: Gosh, it's been a while...well, if anyone actually reads this thing anymore, here's chapter four. I guess you could deduce that much. Thanx to TailsEponineRox for telling me some information about the final scene, though someone else told me that John and the Engineer were there...so I decided to put them into to make this longer. :3Hey, if any of you actually end up reading this, please review, and constructive criticism would be nice...but I'm not going to beg. ;)**

Shattered- Chapter Four

"How in one night have we come so…far?" the girl whispers. I've been struck immediately with a deep wrenching sorrow- not for myself, for I hardly knew her at all, but for Kim and Chris and Tam, and Ellen, who is watching as disparately as I am, but watching Chris and looking betrayed.

Just observing what's going on in front of me is terribly awkward, and has the distinct, sour feeling of being just plain _wrong_. I feel like I'm watching someone performing a holy ritual, not meant for my eyes. Chris, on the other hand, is too blinded by grief to pick up on the tension surrounding us like a suffocating heat; if Kim notices our gawking she doesn't acknowledge so; her boy, Tam, is gazing at his young mother, her dress bloodstained and her face profound, with a disturbed, scared look in his dark brown eyes.

The greasy little man they call simply 'the engineer', however, doesn't look perturbed or even grief-stricken; his brow is furrowed in an unreadable, unfathomable expression and he doesn't pay attention to anyone until Ellen tries to take Tam in her arms. He looks almost angry and pulls the boy back; but why? What ties does he have? Supposedly this girl was only another whore to him, Chris has told me, and her child- certainly nothing more than the _bui-doi_, lower than dust.

Kim is slipping away from life, I can tell, and I can't stand to watch this heart-wrenching event any longer. Pulling my eyes away, a sudden cathartic feeling washes over me with a deep sense of longing and regret; why couldn't I have known her better, helped her more, seen her again, eyes sparkling as they did when I told her that Chris was here. The feeling that told me that I had to help Chris find her, the feeling that told me I had to tell people about what was happening to those children, _our _children, in Vietnam after we left. A feeling partly of guilt and partly of empathy.

Sure, I didn't believe Chris three years ago when he spoke about her innocence and purity, and didn't understand the magnetic pull that attracted him to this seventeen-year-old. Admittedly, she was lovely. But as wonderful as he claimed? I couldn't realise that, never having loved anyone so dearly myself. But it's plain to see all along that she was something more mysterious and breath-taking than I thought. And how could one person so easily end their life to begin another person's- what with so little hesitation?

If only any of us understood.


End file.
